


Here Today, Gone Tomorrow, and Never the Same

by RabbitFangs0108



Category: CSI: NY
Genre: Angst, Gen, Implied Torture, Implied or Off-stage Rape/Non-con, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 04:03:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/657842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RabbitFangs0108/pseuds/RabbitFangs0108
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A simple case ends in a kidnapping, and Stella can't forgive herself for letting it happen. Two years later and now the head of the crime lab, fate gives Stella a chance to make things right. Unfortunately, many things can change a person, and this situation isn't any different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Should've, I Could've, But I Didn't

No one knows what the future may hold. The choices available to us, the decisions we make based off of our choices, and the risks we could encounter due to the decisions that we make today all affect the outcome of our tomorrow. We mostly base our decisions on how we ourselves could benefit from the decision and not on how it could harm others. Someone, anyone, could be alive one day but dead the next. Because of my job, I need to be more careful with how I handle my choices.

For instance, when I had settled down in New York with a job as a crime scene investigator, I mostly thought about how I would support myself and perhaps getting a boyfriend. I never thought that my job would become much more than just a job, or that the people I met would evolve from colleagues to my second family.

A crime scene investigator is also one of the simplest jobs, as long as everything is followed to the book. I help gather evidence, run tests, point out potential suspects, and ask for warrants for a case. Our choices are that we either find the suspect, or we don't. However, being a crime scene investigator is also one of the most difficult. I cannot allow my feelings to get in the way of a case, nor can I become attached to the victim or to someone the victim knew.

Aiden became obsessed with one case of hers, the one where a woman was raped twice by the same man. She knew who the rapist was but couldn't find any evidence to persecute him. She almost planted evidence to convict him, but turned back on her decision. Mac still had to let her go, and her obsession led to stalking the man.

Feelings could be a great motivator, but they can still cloud our judgment. That's why I try to be careful.

My team and I also have our own risks that we face, depending on the case we have or the person's own reasoning. We've faced bullets, bombs, knives, stalkers, and kidnappers. We've faced fear, blame, hopelessness, loneliness, and guilt. However, we are a family and as a family we do our best to help one another get through a crisis.

I couldn't get Frank out of my head for months after he broke into my apartment and nearly killed me. Mac and the others hung around me and never pried me for answers. Then Danny had my back during the period I was harassed by those Greek artifact smugglers a few years ago.

I love my job. I love my family. I wish that I could turn back the hands of the clock and change what happened such a short yet long time ago.

The case we took had been an easy one. A bleach-blonde haired woman in her late twenties had been shot once in the head at the park. We had been processing and gathering the available evidence at four in the morning. I had been tired from staying up the last few days when Mac had offered to finish up the scene without me.

"Are you sure?" I had asked. "I can help finish this scene with you."

Mac had snapped a picture of the woman's wrist, documenting the bruise wrapped around it. "We only need a few photos of the body as well as determining the object near the trees. I can last a few hours by myself."

I should not have considered the offer Mac gave me. Instead, I should have refused and stayed with him until the body was picked up. I had been tired, however, due to getting little sleep in between the former cases I had handled.

Giving him a tired smile, I had thanked him, then had closed my kit and had headed off to my car. I knew that Flack would stay near Mac or make sure that Mac always had a few officers nearby to insure safety.

A few minutes later, a loud noise had sounded. Somehow I knew that it had been an explosion of some sort. Suddenly awake, I had turned my car around and had directed myself to the source of the destructive noise.

Earlier, I had a decision to make: call Mac to see if he was okay or go towards the city. The sound hadn't gone off anywhere near the park, so I made my choice of heading into the city outskirts.

The source of the explosion had come from an abandoned toy store, now destroyed and burning. I had arrived moments after Flack. With sirens shrieking in the distance, he had assured me that he had left officers with Mac, and that Mac would be escorted to our location once he was finished processing the scene. I had called in Lindsay and got started on the new scene.

A few minutes had turned into an hour, yet Mac still hadn't shown up. My gut had told me that something had happened. After conveying my thoughts to Flack, Flack went down to check up on Mac.

Neither one of us could have predicted that the officers Flack left with Mac would end up dead, sharing the same death as the Jane Doe. We could not have known that the bomb in the toy store was only used as a distraction for the law force.

We should've realized sooner that everything had been a ploy to get us away from Mac.

The case of Mac's disappearance took top priority. For so long we had gone over the available evidence, but found almost nothing. We had discovered the type of gun used, but we didn't have the gun itself. The blood that had belonged to the kidnapper became available to us, but wasn't registered in the system. We also had assumed that the kidnapper wore gloves, since we couldn't find any useable fingerprints.

I should've fought harder to keep the case going that what I did. I soon came to terms that we didn't have enough evidence to help us and that other cases could be solved. With a sinking heart I had labeled Mac's case as unresolved and put it off to the side.

The days turned into weeks. The weeks turned into months. Months eventually turned into years. I accepted the offer to become the new CSI head, sitting in the office that used to be Mac's. On slow days I open Mac's folder and survey the photographs, and most times I wonder what would have happened if the events had been different.

I should've chosen to stay with Mac that day instead of choosing sleep.

I couldn't checked up on Mac to make sure he was fine instead of assuming so.

I should've. I could've. But I didn't.


	2. Dreams Only Twist Reality

I sigh as the car was placed on park. I had just closed a case a few hours ago and I had been looking forward to getting some rest for the first time in fifty-two hours, but Danny and Sheldon were processing a scene of their own and Lindsay had been awake for longer than I had been.

The engine cuts off, and the driver turns and looks at me. Eyes that I've known for years share their own level of exhaustion. "You ready?" he asks, determined to bring justice to the victim, not matter how tired he is.

I manage a smile. "Ready as I'll ever be Mac."

Mac nods, grabbing his keys out of the ignition before he steps out of the car. I step out of my own side, then meet him at the car's trunk. We pull out our kits and close the trunk of the car before we walk past the small crowd of people and towards the yellow tape. Another face I'd recognize anywhere stands on the other side of that tape, smiling in our direction.

"What do we have?" Mac asks as we approach Flack.

"Dead female," Flack responds, pulling the tape high enough for Mac and me to walk under. He then leads us towards the location of the body. "A couple decided to end their date by taking a romantic walk through the park. They got this instead."

We finish our approach to the unfortunate soul, and I start examining the body. I notice that the victim has light-colored hair and wore a light green minidress. She's face-down, and she only has one green high-heeled shoe.

With the trees changing colors and leaves on the ground, our victim fits in with the season of death.

"Have you contacted someone to look at the body?" Mac asks as I crouch down to examine the corpse closer. Instead of all blonde hair, I see that the roots are darker colored, saying that our victim is actually a bleach-blonde.

"Sheldon's busy at another crime scene in the opposite direction of this site. We're trying to get a hold of Sid right now." Just then his phone rings. Pulling it out, Flack looks at the screen. " 'Scuse me." He takes his leave, responding to the call.

Mac kneels on the other side of our vic, doing his own analysis. "Do you want the body or the surrounding area?"

I start opening my kit. "I'll take the body." I hear more than see Mac get up and start his own work. The crunching noise of fallen leaves gets farther and farther away.

Looking at her head, I see an opening that resembles a gunshot wound. I take a photo while calling out to Mac, "It looks as though our vic was shot in the back of the head. From her position and the lack of disturbance around the body, I'd say that she was shot here. The bullet could still be in her, but we won't know until Sid comes."

No response. I frown, looking up. "Mac?" I look from side-to-side, unable to locate my boss. I call his name again but receive nothing.

I turn around with the intent of checking if Mac is talking to Flack only to find absolutely nothing. The crime scene tape, the by-standers, Flack… They all had disappeared.

"Don? Mac?" I look in all directions, panicked, but I conclude that I'm the only living presence in the park. The body remains where it's at.

My phone rings after this realization, startling me. I whip it out of my pocket and look at the screen, wondering who could be calling me. I frown as I notice the unidentified caller ID. "Bonasera," I announce, trying not to feel irritated.

Silence. My irritation rises. "Hello?" I still receive nothing. "Look, I don't have time for-"

" _What kind of investigator are you?"_

I blink at the level of disdain and anger from the voice on the other side. I couldn't quite place where I've heard this person before. "Sorry?"

" _What kind of investigator are you,"_ the womanly voice on the other side spits out, _"if you can find criminals and missing persons, but not your boss?"_

At that moment a shout of _"Stella!"_ comes from the woods behind me. Instinct springs me into action and I spin around at record speed, fear forming a rock in my stomach. "Mac!" I drop my phone next to the body, not caring about whether the woman on the other end stayed connected or not. Without hesitating I shoot myself towards the trees and plunge myself within their depths.

" _Stella!"_ I hear Mac yell again as I rush past and around trees. I barely notice the trees become more and more barren of leaves and more and more sinister the longer I run. My only priority is to find Mac. I prepare to scream Mac's name again, but I trip over something before I get the chance. In my haste I didn't notice that the forest had ended.

I push myself up and absorb my surroundings in what light is available this early in the morning. Although the scene changed and the moon doesn't give me enough light to work with, I know without a doubt that I somehow ran in a circle. What I had tripped over was the body. The momentum of me running into it had turned it onto its side.

However, the forest isn't the only thing that changed. I feel the trees loom around me, mocking me. They close in and start to steal any oxygen I could take, releasing the smell of death into the air. However, it is not the smell of death that makes me gag, and it isn't the trees that fill me with horror. It is the sight laid before me.

Somehow my phone had remained on, even when dropped on the cold, grey ground. The woman on the other end never hung up, almost as if she knew that I'd been doing and had waited for my return. As she speaks to me, I finally realize exactly who she is.

" _What kind of investigator are you,"_ my own voice demands as I stare into blue-grey eyes, blood dripping out of a fresh bullet hole through Mac's forehead, _"if you can protect strangers and bring them justice, but you can't do the same with your best friend?"_

O-O-O-O-O-O-O

My eyes fly open and I sit myself up, the image of Mac's corpse fresh on my mind. I then blink, looking around my apartment and I realize that I had only been dreaming. I glance at the clock, curious as to what time it is. Whatever chance I had of falling back asleep flies out the window when I see that it's 3:33 a.m.

A weary sigh leaves my body and I run a hand through my bed-ridden hair. At least I now understand why I had that graphic nightmare. If it's the day that I'm thinking about, then it's only a few more hours before the second-year mark of Mac's disappearance.

Although his case is considered a cold case, I still spend as much free time as I can reading through the file and going over the evidence, trying to find any connections that could be made. The main reason is that I won't ever give up on finding Mac, though part of the reason is that I despise how the majority of the lab believes that he suffered a similar fate to that of our Jane Doe and the two officers (the three of them included in the same file, of course), and that the killer just dumped Mac's remains somewhere in the woods or river or something.

Hmm…Maybe my subconscious knew the importance of this day and mixed the information and fears of the case in with the assumptions and just created that twisted dream. Even if everyone else in the lab has lost hope of ever seeing Mac alive, I know that the team and I will keep faith that he's out there somewhere. We'll keep believing that until the day we see his body ourselves and confirm it with DNA testing.

My cell rings on the night stand next to me. I reach for it, reading Flack's name on the ID, and I hit the talk button. "Bonasera."

" _Hey there Stella,"_ Flack greets me. _"Did I wake you?"_

I glance at the clock again, shock filling me as I notice that twenty minutes has passed by. Was I really in that deep of thought? "I've been awake for a while now."

" _Oh. Okay. Well, there's a dead body next to the Statue of Liberty, and it's pretty gruesome."_

I throw back the covers and get out of bed. "I'll be right over."

" _I'll be here."_ He pauses for a second. _"Hey, Stella?"_

"Yes?"

"… _Nevermind. I'll see you when you get here."_ The conversation stops there, and I end the call on my side. He knows what today is, too. That I am certain.

I take in a deep breath and prepare myself for another case. I dress in record time and I'm almost out the door when I pause at a photo on the wall.

It's of Mac, me, and the rest of the team at a celebration. It seems so long ago that I can't exactly remember what it was we were celebrating.

Many feelings mix together at the sight of that photo, but I always gaze at it so that I remain determined. "We'll find you," I promise the photo as I do every time I pass by it. "I swear that we'll find you."


End file.
